


Of Memories and Pixie Dust

by bookwormfaith



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormfaith/pseuds/bookwormfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When does a memory become a story?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:  Of Memories & Pixie Dust**  
 **Author:** bookworm  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Disclaimer:** I promise no characters were harmed in the writing of the story and were all returned to their original locations  
 **Summary:** **_When does a memory become a story?_**

_“What story do you want to hear tonight? Shall it be about Princesses and Heroes? Or Red Indians, maybe, or Pirates? Shall we wander over to Fairyland or dive down below the Ocean waves?”_

_“How about a story of me?”_

Tooth has missed this, being out in the field. She’s over Europe now – old Europe, with its whispers of older magic, old tales woven into the very fabric of the land – some of them recognise her, some of them don’t, with legends and fairy tales going back even further than the Guardians (they are tamer here, a little, than in the wilder lands of her youth, tied to generations of stories told to children). The European division has things well in hand, so she keeps going, crossing the narrow stretch of sea to England, and the streets of London. Oh, but Tooth loves London – for all its crowded bustle and modern trappings, the city is old, so old and crowded full of stories ( _that way_ , lies Baker Street, _over_ _there_ , is Sherwood Forest, _here_ , stands the Globe Theatre, Camelot lay _yonder_ ) – at the end of the day, Tooth loves England because her story is English too, for all that she is from faraway lands, and London is England’s heart and stories are its lifeblood. 

_“Once upon a time, there was an island, and its heart was a boy who never grew up. Everyone knows this island, for all of us have been there, and still we can hear the sound of the waves on the beach, even if we can no longer go ashore. The island was perfect for any game you wanted to play, but no one save the boy ever stays there for long. It isn’t fun to play alone, and so he left the island to look for playmates”_

For a moment she simply looks – it is late and Sandy’s golden streams thread gently amongst the glow of windows and streetlights. There are teeth to collect, but just for a moment she takes the time to simply _look_ ; and perhaps that is why she sees it.

_“There was a girl, living right here, you know. Maybe she stayed in this very room, telling stories to her brothers.”_

_“What was her name?”_

_“Don’t you remember?”_

_“I think… I think her name was Wendy”_

_“Yes”_

Over in the Bloomsbury district, a light gleams in an upstairs bedroom, far past the time that most children should be in bed. Of course, these days such lights are as like to be teens or adults staying up late, but there is a young boy perched precariously on the windowsill. For the briefest of moments she thinks that it is Jack, but then she realises that he’s far too young (besides, it’s spring, and Jack will be busy elsewhere by now).

_“She told the most marvellous stories, and after night after night listening to them, the boy determined that she would be his mother.”_

_“Oh, the cleverness of me!”_

It isn’t Jack, but the boy perches there with the same careless unconcern, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) of the drop below and the narrowness of his seat. Even as Tooth watches he tosses his head back and leaps to his feet, and despite the distance she lunges to catch him instinctively, only to stop, for he dances easily on the narrow beam, as sure-footed and careless of gravity as Jack as he crows pridefully. He laughs and Tooth is instantly captivated, for he has a complete set of baby teeth, like perfect little pearls. He clearly isn’t Jack, but Tooth thinks they might almost be brothers, if Jack _had_ a brother, for he has the same careless smile, with that hint of wickedness in the corner.

_“He took her and her brothers to the Island where they had, oh, such grand adventures… but. Eventually, all children, save one, grow up. So he brought them home again. Before he left, she promised never to forget him, and he promised to come and fetch her every year for spring cleaning.”_

_“I came back, but she had forgotten how to fly”_

_“We all do, eventually. You need to be gay and innocent and heartless to fly – no adult has the faith to do so, for the minute you begin to doubt you lose the ability forever, or so my mother said.”_

_“I brought her fairy dust, but she told me not to waste it on her.”_

_“So you took her daughter with you in her stead, and her daughter after…”_

_“It’s springtime, mother – the little house needs cleaning, and the Lost Boys are waiting for more stories. The Pirate ship has docked off the shore and the Red Indians have left their winter haunts. Will you come?”_

_“Always, Peter.”_

 Even as Tooth watches, the boy bows cheekily and offers his hand to the young girl who has come to the window. She is a sweet little thing, all dimples and curls with a hidden smile in the corner of her mouth, and seeing her face Tooth suddenly realises who she is (Her name is Moira, she almost always flosses, she will be twelve this summer, and all the girls who have lived at Number 14 have had remarkably consistent dreams, and one memory that is the always the same)

“Do you remember the way?”

“Second to the right, and straight on til morning”

She curtsies to him and takes his hand, and he blows the golden dust on it in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to think happy thoughts!”

And with a laugh they are off, so swift that any passerby looking up would have only thought they saw a shooting star. They wave at Tooth as they go past, and Peter flashes her a grin that almost makes her swoon.

Tooth does not usually look at the memories held in the teeth, as there are simply too many. But every now and then, there will be a story that stands out. Every girl who has lived at Number 14 has the same memory – she dreams of an island, and a boy who never grows up. And she remembers flying, and adventure, and stories, and that the boy with ecstasies innumerable lacks one last one – he has no mother.

_“All this has happened before, and will happen again.”_

Every year, so long as he remembers, Peter comes to Number 14 to fetch his mother for spring cleaning. And every daughter of the house since Wendy has been waiting for him. They all love him, this boy who will not grow up – and perhaps it is because of that, but all of them grow up wise, and beautiful, and raise daughters and sons who never stop believing in fairies. 

When does a memory become a story? Perhaps when the story repeats.

All children grow up, Tooth knows, except for two; but not all of them stop believing.


	2. Of Youth and Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has never met Peter. Neverland has no winter, after all, unless Peter leaves.

**Title: Of Youth and Winter  
Author:** bookworm  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Summary:** _Jack has never met Peter. Neverland has no winter, after all, unless Peter leaves._

 

Do you remember the Island? All its sun-drenched shores that are oh-so-familiar, as if a familiar friend you have not seen in ages. There is a boy who plays there, in that endless summer – you may have heard his voice in your dreams. It is always summer there, when the Boy is home, and he has never known a winter. Right now he is hesitating, waiting, just at the border, where the sun arrows fade into night, but who is he waiting for?

 

“The new librarian’s got some really awesome stories”

It’s just a throwaway line during one of their countless snowball fights, but it gets Jack wondering.

“Y’know the funniest thing, Jack? One of ‘em ‘s about a boy who sounds almost like you but not.”

He ignores it for a while (it’s winter, and there’s Fun to be had), but Jack has always been a curious sort, and eventually he finds himself drifting over to the local library during story time for more reasons than bugging Jamie and the others.

 

Margaret Darling quite likes Burgess, she thinks. She wasn’t sure about the move, at first – she’s not getting any younger after all – but it has been worth it, to see her grandchildren. Burgess is very different to London, but people are still people, and children still love stories. She especially likes winter in Burgess – the snow is clean and white, so different to London’s drab grey slush. It makes her feel young again, tempting her outside to play. It is so magical she almost expects to see Peter come knocking, but no – she hasn’t seen him in… oh, so many years, and Neverland has no winter.

“Can we have another story?”

“Of course you can, dear. What sort of story would you like?”

As the children cheer and demand another tale (“Pirates!”) she thinks for a moment that she sees… not Peter, but a boy, very like him, peeping through the window.

 

She does tell excellent stories, Jack thinks, ducking back around the corner so Jamie won’t see him and settling in to listen.

_“And most fearsome of all was their captain, oh, such a terror was he – his hair was dressed in long curls, and his eyes were as blue as forget-me-nots, until he was stabbing you, when they turned as red as flame. He was always dressed as if he was going to court, and endeavoured even while killing you to be polite (which was, of course, when he was at his most sinister), but by far the most terrible thing about him was the fact that he had no right hand – no, instead he had an iron hook!”_

The oddest thing is that it almost seems as if she saw him, but of course, that can’t be right, she’s an adult, and adults can’t see them (Jack tries hard not to think about that – Jamie isn’t getting any younger after all).

The children shriek and gasp at all the right intervals, as she describes the bloodthirsty crew and their terrible captain, who “ _has no fear, except for one creature – a crocodile!_ ”

_“Long ago, you see, Peter Pan cut off his hand and fed it to the beast, and the creature loved the taste so much that he followed after them always, hoping for another bite! But fortunately for Hook, the crocodile also ate a clock, once, so he could always tell when it got too close by the ticking.”_

_“Who’s Peter Pan?”_

_“Ah, but he’s the most marvellous boy…”_

Jack listens and learns and wonders. He doesn’t know this Peter Pan, who sounds too real to be only a made-up story, and he had thought he had met all of this world’s Legends by now. But the island, the island sounds almost familiar, as if he knew it once in a dream.

_Second star to the right, wasn’t it?_

Jack has never met Peter. Neverland has no winter, after all, unless Peter leaves.

 

There is a house in Bloomsbury in London, where a girl is telling stories to a boy who never grows up.

_“And they say that when Winter is here, Jack Frost comes to town to paint the windows and dress the eaves, and prepare the parks for games.”_

_“Who’s Jack Frost?”_

_“Ah, he’s a boy, like yourself they say, but he’s a Guardian…”_

Peter has seen snow before, of course, but he doesn’t know Winter, not really. He thinks to himself that it sounds like fun, maybe, and it might make for a good adventure. This Jack too, perhaps he’d make a good Lost Boy, it’s been a while since he’s gone looking for more playmates. Maybe later, though – right now… right now he’s a bit jealous that his Mother is telling stories about someone else.

_“Tell me a story about me”_

 

You cannot find Neverland, you know, unless the island is out looking for you. It is only thus that any one may sight those magic shores. But Jack is friends with the Sandman, and the stars are happy enough to let him pass, even if he cannot clearly remember the Way. So he comes with the Wind at last, following a million golden arrows directed by the Sun, and see! There is someone waiting.

 

There are two boys staring at each other, carried by the same breeze, with the same mischief curling their lips, and the same uncertainty in their eyes. One is older, pale as the snow; one is younger, dressed in bright leaves – but there is something about them that makes you think they might almost be brothers.

A moment later the same fun sparks in both their eyes, the acknowledgement of a kindred spirit, and they reach out.

“Hi, I’m Jack” _I am Winter, the snow and the games, the ice and the frost, the fun and danger._

“I’m Peter” _I am Youth, the joy and the laughter, the careless freedom of flight, adventure and dreams._

_“Let’s be friends.”_

And for the first time, Winter comes to Neverland while Youth is in residence.


	3. To Forget Would Be An Awfully Big Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but will never afterwards be the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter" – JM Barrie

**Title:** **To Forget Would be an Awfully Big Adventure** **  
 **Author:****  bookworm  
 **Rating:**  G…shading a bit to PG perhaps  
 **Warnings:**  some darker theme raised this time, since Book!Peter is… well, he’s nowhere nice as the Disney version.  
 **Disclaimer:**  I promise no characters were harmed in the writing of this fic  
 **Summary:**  " **** _After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but will never afterwards be the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter” – JM Barrie_    
 _  
Listen, listen do you know the secret of the Island? See, look, here's a clue - in the daytime, with the lights on, it's all fun and games, but at night, with only the nightlight, isn't it a bit frightening? Just a little too real? Dreams are so very very close to Nightmares after all (why else do you think Sandy and Pitch fight so?).  
_  
Every Legend has a job to do. Do you know Peter's?  
  
It is the first time that Youth and Winter have met, and the first time they have found an equal. Neverland is blasted with snow, not the ice of Peter's leaving, but Jack's playful mischief, and the Indians throw up their hands and the Pirates sulk, but the Lost Boys come tumbling through the snowdrifts with shouts of glee (sometimes, if Jack stops to think, he finds it odd that he doesn't remember how many of them there are, for normally he has no trouble remembering his believers. Then Peter will flash him a wicked grin, and suggest some new mischief, and Jack will forget to worry). The best fun to be had is with the Pirates - Hook spits nails as he wrings icicles from his beard, and Jack laughs and laughs and reminds him that he is to thank for ensuring that the Crocodile cannot reach him (the sea around the Jolly Roger is solid with ice, with an indignant ticking iceberg not more than a handsbreath from the ship). Hook swears eternal revenge and blames Peter for allowing Winter in, and Jack high fives his new best friend and thinks that Hook is ever so much more fun than Pitch.   
  
(In Burgess, Jamie wonders why this winter is so mild, and he hopes Jack comes by soon)   
  
Peter is delighted to find someone who can keep up with him, if somewhat envious of his ability to corral the Lost Boys ( _he's_  supposed to be the leader! But Jack is so very good at games). He quickly forgets that they haven't known each other for long, when they get along so well (if he allows himself to think about it, he's happy that Jack will never get older, and so never leave him - but of course, he never allows himself to do so). The Island responds to its Heart, and Winter is welcomed to its embrace. For the first time, Peter doesn't have to go out seeking new playmates.   
 _  
Did you ever wonder where the Pirates and the Indians come from? Peter dislikes Adults, for the most part - the Lost Boys are never allowed to stay after a certain age - Peter thins them out himself. Did you ever wonder what happens to them?_    
  
Jack and Peter are so overjoyed to find a boon companion that neither stop to wonder at how long they have been playing. Time blurs so easily on the Island - Faerieland is like that, often. You've heard the stories, haven't you? How old Rip Van Winkle fell asleep watching a game of pins and woke centuries later, or Urashima Taro, who stayed three days in the halls of the Sea King and returned to find everyone he loved long dead of age. It's why the children are warned not to follow the Fair Folk in their revels, or you might end up like poor Thomas the Rhymer. And what is Neverland, after all, but one of the Islands of Faerie? The Fair Folk are Fair, tis true, and sometimes even Good, but this doesn't make them safe (and who raised Peter, after all?).   
  
(In the Warren, Bunny tries to relax after a hard but productive Easter, but can't stop wondering where their wayward Guardian of Fun was this year - it isn't the same without him causing trouble.)   
  
One of the best things about Neverland, as far as Jack is concerned, is that the Island is so tied to Peter that the warm weather isn't a bother, simply because Peter doesn't want it to be. It's the first time Jack has been able to be out and about in the lazy heat of summer without the penalties of Winter being in the wrong place and time, and he enjoys it for all that it's worth (it’s the most Fun he's had in decades, better still for its novelty - he never stops to wonder what Season it is on the Mainland). The  _worst_  part is Peter's forgetfulness - Jack himself can be careless, he knows, but with Peter it's almost as if he really doesn't care - he's so careless of the lives of the Pirates and Indians that they fight, and he forgets the Lost Boys as soon as they leave. He's getting better where Jack can see him, because Peter knows that it upsets him, but Jack still sometimes worries (he only worries sometimes because he's beginning to forget too). Neither boy registers the fact that Jack's hair is going ever so slightly brown at the roots.   
  
(In the end the Guardians go to Sandy, the oldest of them all. The children have been uneasy lately, with none being able to clearly say why - it isn't a loss of belief, but a fear of the dark that grows. The places of pretend that should be a blessing are a little darker, lately, as if the fun is absent, and the dreams are more than a little wild. The Sandman frowns and looks to the stars, but they are as silent as ever. The Moon however, frets, and Sandy takes his cue from that.)   
  
Jack will never say it aloud but the Sandman's arrival is almost like a slap to the face when he realises how long he's been gone. He cannot bring himself to be truly angry at Peter, who he knows doesn't realise the gravity of the situation, but after staring in horror at what Sandy is saying, Jack knows that after he sees to Winter and reassures Jamie, he is going to find someplace quiet and have a breakdown at how close he came to forgetting.   
  
Long ago, Mrs Darling used to tell Wendy stories - it's how Wendy learnt the name of Peter Pan, you know. But if you asked her who he was, all she would be able to recall was that he was the boy who escorted the souls of the children who die, so that they won't be frightened. What Wendy figured out, you see, was that Peter forgets because he and the Lost Boys are to remain, or even become, innocent and heartless, and you can't do that if you remember all the sorrow and loss you've had. Childhood is selfish you see, it doesn't understand the pain and joy of another yet - a child can be happy so long as they are safe and their needs met, but concern for others is only just beginning to be taught. A child loves so easily, but that love is a careless one, easily forgotten. And Wendy, Wendy  _loved_  Peter - and that love is the very beginning of adulthood - that moment when you begin to understand what it means to put another's happiness above your own, even if it means your own pain; when you learn what it means to fear the loss of someone, but accept that the reward is worth the risk. Loving him, she understood - for him to love her in return, especially to love her the way she was beginning to want, he would have to grow up - and she could never ask that of him. So she let him go. When the Lost Boys are old enough, they leave (or Peter makes them) and while those who have something of the child in them still may linger on the Island, most cross that final doorway and never return. And remember, Jack... Jack  _died_  to become Jack Frost.   
  
Peter is upset at Jack's leaving, and the Island reflects his mood, but not even the Pan will cross the Sandman. Jack however, looks at Peter and sees a child who is losing yet another playmate and cannot bring himself to be angry (and who is Jack, after all, but a Guardian of Childhood?). Peter, Jack knows, is likely to forget, if left alone. But Jack has been alone for 300 years, and he'll not let another go down that road, even if Peter has all the playmates he could want (and he genuinely  _likes_  Peter, the first to keep up with him in centuries). He promises to return and Sandy uneasily agrees to allow it, but only if Jack warns him beforehand so he can fetch him if needful. In the meantime, Jack reminds Peter that they can still meet and play with the children on the mainland, and Peter begrudgingly accepts this compromise, only brightening at the thought of more playmates. Winter leaves then, and Summer returns to the Island, but now the inhabitants know that he will return. Without Jack, Peter is quickly too restless to stay, and before long Neverland sinks back into its sleep, as its Heart leaves to do his job. As Neverland slumbers this time, perhaps the stars gleam a little brighter, and the Wind's song is ever so slightly more cheerful. Things have changed, on the Island.   
  
There are two boys who never grow up - Youth, and Winter. Both, in their own ways, have been alone for a long time. But now they’ve found each other.

 _“Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but will never afterwards be the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest.” – JM Barrie_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I wanted to look at some of the differences between Jack and Peter this time, particularly the fact that book!Peter is… not a very nice character. Oh, he’s loveable, and sweet when he wants to be, but also somewhat terrifying – JM Barrie himself said that children are “the most heartless things in the world… but so attractive”, and Peter, of course, even moreso than Jack, is very much the Immortal Child. In the book he “thins out” the Lost Boys when they get too old, the way kids will switch friends at the drop of a hat on the playground (although the implications are much darker), and he’ll switch sides in fights with the pirates just because he’s bored, he treats everything as a game, and of course, he has the memory of a goldfish – all of which are true of very young children. Jack, of course, although he certainly treats most of life as a game (in his case of course, it’s more a coping mechanism), is both older, and has had the responsibility of being the older sibling – he’s learnt to care for others, which Peter hasn’t. Jack would fall into that category of “loving you again” without being the same, but Peter can remain “gay and innocence and heartless”, because he forgets (and there’s the issue of Jack and forgetting…yeeeeeah I skipped over that this time). I’ve always felt that it was some aspect of the Island which caused that, as it is supposed to be one part Dream and one part Faerieland, and such places are malleable in time and space at the best of times – the longer you stay, the harder it gets to remember. And that thing about Peter escorting souls is canon, yep.


End file.
